Fall To Grace
by happysnail
Summary: High King Torygg didn't die. Instead he's been kidnapped by Katariah, a cunning Dark Elf eager to win her way back into the Thieve's Guild's good graces. With Skyrim on the brink of war and amid rumors of dragons on the loose who could have thought it was a good idea to ransom the High King?
1. Prologue

_Hand, hand. Foot, foot._ Katariah chanted the two words in her head like a prayer as she scaled the side of the Blue Palace. Admittedly, there were probably easier ways to break into the home of Skyrim's High King than by climbing in through his bedroom window, but her employer had given her strict instructions. _In through the window, grab the… shit!_

Her foot slipped. For a sickening moment, she hung weightless in the air until the wind slammed her against the tower. Shock reverberated through her body; threatened to pry her fingertips loose of their precious holds. Her boots scrabbled uselessly against the slick stones until finally one wedged itself in a small gap. Katariah found a nook for her other foot as well and breathed a sigh of relief. If she had fallen at this height not even a necromancer would have wanted what was left. Fortunately, the window she was after wasn't far and she soon hauled herself up onto its sheltered eave.

"By the grace of Nocturnal!" she couldn't help but to whoop a little too loudly. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck to relieve her aching muscles. She'd been assured the window itself wouldn't be much of an obstacle. After all, you had to climb several hundred feet up the side of the palace just to get to it, and the palace already sat on a cliff overlooking the massive Karth River. It _was_ locked however, so Katariah scratched a muffling rune on the glass before punching through it and unlocking it.

She slipped into the extravagant bedroom, climbing over a desk set before the window on her way in. For a moment, she simply let her eyes adjust to the light. Outside the twin moons were full and bright. Inside, the only light came from the now broken window, the rest still covered by their ornate draperies. As if the gods knew and appreciated her flair for the dramatic, the light from the lone window spilled across the room and lit upon the High King in his bed.

Torygg slept peacefully for the king of a war torn country, and as Katariah's employers had promised, High Queen Elisif was noticeably absent from her half of the massive bed. A sudden pang of regret flared in Katariah's belly as she realized that _she_ would be the catalyst that tore the young king's life asunder.

The thief squashed her feelings and turned from the bed. A job was a job and Torygg was only half of this one. The plush carpeting beneath her feet helped to muffle her footsteps as she crisscrossed the room, rifling through dressers and desks of expensive imported woods. She collected anything that seemed to be of political or military import and of course a few valuable baubles to hock later. Her instructions were to make it look like an assassination. With the dark horse Ulfric Stormcloak sleeping only a hall away _and_ having challenged the High King to a "duel in the Old Ways" only that afternoon, no one would think it was anything else.

 _Make it look like he was Shouted apart._

The words rang in Katariah's ears as she approached the sleeping king.


	2. Chapter 1: Riches to Rags

Torygg awoke to midday sun and a gentle rocking he couldn't quite figure out. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, the sky came into focus overhead, along with the occasional passing tree branch. "By the Nine!" Very much awake now, he tried to leap to his feet, but only succeeded in rolling off what he now realized was a horse's back and decidedly _not_ his bed. He landed face first on the ground behind the beast with an audible 'thump'.

"By the Nine?" a dusky feminine voice laughed from somewhere above him, "Curious turn of phrase for the puppet king of an empire that only believes in _eight_ gods."

 _Kidnapping._ It was the only thought Torygg could muster through the pain in his head. The short fall had busted his nose if not broken it. He could feel the warm seep of blood down his face. His captor rolled him over with her foot, crushing his bound hands beneath him. Torygg groaned. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a bruise, let alone bled.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," his kidnapper teased. She was a Dark Elf, her blue grey skin and pointed ears dead giveaways. She straddled his chest, crushing his hands underneath him even more, and lifted his chin with one hand. "Now Restoration isn't my strong suit so you'll have a bump, but… well, stupid is as stupid does." The finger tips on her spare hand began to glow with golden light.

Torygg jerked his head back in a panic. "That won't be necessary I can assure you!" He said hastily, trying to squirm out from under her weight and away from her magic. He racked his brain trying to figure out which House this She-Elf was from and just _how_ he'd managed to piss of the Dark Elves. He'd thought Skyrim was on good terms with its neighbor Morrowind, but obviously he'd tread on some powerful toes if the Dunmer had sent someone to ransom him. He'd be going directly to the Emperor about this as soon as his guards found him. This was a _serious_ breach in diplomacy.

Since the She-Elf wasn't wearing any obvious identifying insignia or badge, Torygg gave up his guessing game and with all the regality and dignity he could muster from the flat of his back demanded, "Who are you? Do you know who _I_ am? You have committed treason of the highest…"

The She-Elf hauled him roughly to his feet by his armpits. "Treason of the highest order, death by beheading, you'll see make sure my family's family hangs for this!" She mocked in what Torygg assumed was supposed to be a rough approximation of his voice. The She-Elf's violet eyes danced with laughter. "Pack it in, you git. I've heard it all before."

"Have you then?" Torygg spat scathingly. "Do you know what my disappearance could do in terms of the current conflict? Shor's Mercy, Ulfric Stormcoak just challenged me…"

"Disappearance?" the She-Elf interrupted, all trace of mirth wiped clean from her face. "Torygg, everyone across the whole of Skyrim thinks you're dead. I made sure of it."

. . .

Katariah peered over her shoulder at Torygg. After her big reveal, Torygg seemed to deflate and had quit talking. Of course, when she decided to untie him to tie his hands in front and rope him to her saddle, he'd come alive, kicking and clawing like a cornered sabre cat. After that he spent so much time threatening and hurling insults she'd had to dismount and gag him.

She'd kept a brisk pace, fast enough so that he couldn't catch up and attempt to pull her from her mount, but slow enough that he wouldn't tire too quickly. The last few hours he'd done little more than stumble along behind her. It was almost enough to make her feel sorry for him, but only almost. Katariah had gotten used to seeing the rich and powerful truly suffering for the first time in her days of ransoming.

"Oy! Who goes there!"

Katariah froze in her saddle before remembering herself and forcing her body to relax. Her horse whickered nervously as a small troop of soldiers came into view around a bend in the road. They wore Imperial Red, which did nothing for Katariah's nerves, but they were most likely simply marching to Dragonsbridge from Karthwarsten on some military errand. The thought helped her to relax. She'd fled Solitude, the capital city two days ago, via river boat. Her boatman had dropped her off just south of Dragonsbridge last night and she'd spent most of the day trying to make it to the drop point midway between there and Karthwarsten. There was no way more than rumor had gotten farther south than she had.

"Just a mercenary and her collar!" she called with forced cheer. She tossed another glance over her shoulder. The lower half of Torygg's face, what could be seen around the gag anyway, was coated in dried blood. The upper half was smeared with sweat and dirt from their tussle, and his nose was very obviously broken. His clothes weren't much better off. You couldn't tell that they had once been pajamas made from the finest silks. He looked as much a king as Katariah did.

The soldiers approached in loose formation and Katariah noticed they were packing light. Wherever they were headed, they were going there in a hurry. Behind her, Torygg started yelling, but it was unintelligible through his gag.

"Spirited, isn't he?" the Captain chuckled as he walked past Katariah's horse. He was referring to Torygg of course, who was practically foaming at the mouth. "I hope you aren't wanting to cash in that bounty in Markarth, sellsword, or you may have wasted your time."

Katariah eyed the soldier suspiciously, "Is that so?"

The men behind the Captain laughed. "Haven't you heard?" one called out, only to be silenced by his commanding officer.

The Captain turned back to Katariah. "The Reach has fallen to the Forsworn, ma'am. All Imperial citizens and troops have been advised to evacuate to Dragonsbridge or Rorikstead."

 _Godsdamnit!_ Kat tried to get a reign on her composure. This was worst case scenario. She had at least another day for travel before she got to the drop point with a willful mark and now she couldn't even be assured the road would be safe. Or at least, as safe as it ever was. She was fenced into Forsworn territory by the Karth River to the east and the Druadach Mountains to the west. Not that she could even flee west what with the High King of Skyrim tied to the back of her horse.

"You said citizens are evacuating to Rorikstead. Does that mean the Empire still holds Karthwarsten?" It was the only safe place to cross the Karth for miles unless you doubled back to Dragonsbridge.

"Aye," the Captain nodded, "but I don't know for how much longer."


	3. Chapter 2: Karthwasten

Author's Note: I just want to throw out there that I know there's no bridge in game in Karthwarsten, but there are only two bridges that cross the Karth River in game and the one that's not Dragon's Bridge is slightly north of Karthwasten and south of the Reach StormCloak camp and Liar's Retreat, so for the purposes of this story I've moved Karthwarsten north to where all those things are. Edit: So just remember that because it's important next chapter...

Torygg woke up for the second time on the back of a horse. His head throbbed. Once the soldiers were out of earshot the She-Elf had dismounted, savagely kicked Torygg's feet out from under him, and knocked him out. After that she'd apparently loaded him onto the back of her horse and had been riding hard and fast ever since if the soreness of Torygg's ribs was any indication. He was still gagged, so he couldn't ask where they were, but from what he could tell she was taking a shortcut through the forest to… wherever they were going. When the Elf had been following the road, he'd had a vague idea that they were headed toward Karthwasten, but for all he knew now, they were halfway to Hammerfell. He shifted in an attempt to relieve his aching ribs and succeeded in rolling right off the back of the horse.

He landed with an audible "thump", but this time on his back rather than his face. As soon as he hit the ground he heard the Elf bring her horse to an abrupt halt. She dismounted and rolled Torygg over with her foot. "You have got to be the single most _annoying_ person I have _ever_ kidnapped. Do you know where we are? We are in the Reach, home of the Reach _men_ , who practice barbaric magics like ripping out your heart and replacing it with…"

Torygg interrupted her, "Hmm mmm hmm mm mm!" The She-Elf bent down and removed his gag. "Replacing it with a briar, yes, I know, I am king of this realm you know." He spat.

"Then you'd _know_ that the Reachmen hate the Empire, Skyrim, and you especially and trying to escape into their recently reclaimed territory is the _epitome of stupid,_ O'King of the Realm." She hefted him up by his armpits and stood him upright.

"I wasn't even trying to escape! I was just trying to get comfortable!"

The Elf cut the ropes binding his ankles together. "Oy the poor widdle king isn't comfortable! You've been kidnapped! You're not supposed to be _comfortable_." She walked over to her horse and remounted, then turned in the saddle and gestured for Torygg to mount as well. "C'mon then, we're almost to the drop point. We can be through with each other and I can get the Oblivion out of here before I get sacrificed by a Hagraven or something."

Torygg did as told and mounted awkwardly behind the Elf, as hard as that was with his hands bound. She was right. He couldn't very well run off into the Reach. If he didn't get mauled to death by a bear, he'd get captured by the Reachmen, or the Forsworn as they were commonly known, and honestly, he'd rather get mauled by a bear.

The Elf rode expertly through the woods at a breakneck pace along a path Torygg couldn't make out. By the time she reigned the horse in, it was nearing night again. The Elf guided the horse around one last large spur of rock and suddenly they were in the middle of a small camp. There were at least five Nordic men immediately visible at various points around the camp, two tended a small fire and three seemed to be on some sort of watch. Torygg realized with a sinking heart they were watching for him and the Elf.

"Are you friend, or foe?" one of the men called out, coming abreast of the horse. He wasn't the largest of the men by far, but his armor, mismatched as it was, was the nicest, so Torygg correctly assumed he was the leader.

"I am for Skyrim!" The Elf replied a little grandiosely. Torygg snorted. If she was "for Skyrim" why did she kidnap the King? The Elf heard him snort and elbowed him in the gut. "And this is The Package. I was promised the rest of my payment upon his safe delivery, I expect my due."

The man broke into a broad grin and unceremoniously dragged Torygg from the saddle. "No worries, Kat, you'll get your gold." Looking at Torygg he exclaimed, "And what happened to you? You look like a barrel of Troll shit."

Reaching the limit of his admittedly fragile temper, Torygg snapped, "Is that any way to speak to your king?"

The man laughed uproariously, "I suppose not, but you ain't my king." He shoves Torygg in the direction of the two by the fire, who catch him and sit him down roughly between them. The leader and "Kat" exchanged a few words Torygg couldn't catch and a huge sack of gold, then after mounting a fresh horse, she rode off into the night and despite himself, Torygg couldn't help but wish he was going with her. Especially when he looked around himself at his new companions, and they leered back.

Katariah hurried quickly toward Karthwasten. She hadn't slept in going on two days, instead riding hard for the drop point, but there wasn't time to sleep now either. She was determined to get to Karthwasten and now that she was back on the main road, she'd been making good time and could just see the glow of the small town up ahead. As she rode in all seemed suspiciously quiet and normal. The road continued straight through the village, becoming the bridge and continuing on the other side. Katariah looked at it longingly. Technically, the other side was still well within the Reach, but at least from that side of the river there was only land to contend with rather than frigid angry rapids. She did need to sleep though, so she turned her horse from the bridge and tied it up to the posts outside of Karthwasten Hall.

Karthwasten Hall, like the rest of Karthwasten was owned by a man named Ainethatch. It was a large farmhouse style building with a thatch roof and a covered porch. After brushing down her horse and removing his tack, Katariah climbed the steps and went inside, saddle under her arm. Behind the bar was Ainethatch himself, and he looked up as Katariah walked in. "Hello! Are you looking to rent a room for the night?"

"Yeah… where is everyone?" Katariah asked looking around the empty common room uneasily.

"Most people have gone on ahead to Rorikstead. Damn Forsworn. If they're not attacking the mines, they're off causing mischief elsewhere."

Katariah nodded tersely, suddenly feeling the past two days' ride and followed Ainethatch to her room. They settled payment and Ainethatch left, closing the door behind him. Katariah meant to take a bath, but after kicking off her boots and sinking onto the bed, she felt too exhausted to bother with a bath. _I'll take a bath in the morning._ She thought, _What's the worst that could happen?_


	4. Chapter 3: The Forsworn

Katariah woke to the smell of smoke. She opened her eyes blearily, making out a faint red glow and shafts of daylight coming from the ceiling. "Fire!" She leaped out of bed, tugged on her boots, snatched up her horse's tack and rushed out of her room. "Ainethatch!" she screamed. The heat was sweltering, and parts of the thatch roof were falling through into the hall still ablaze. Smoke was everywhere, burning her eyes and clouding her vision. She stumbled through the hall and burst out the front door to find the rest of the buildings in the small settlement in a similar state, and a large group of Forsworn circling Ainethatch in the road.

"You will have no more dealings with the Nords, Ainethatch!" one of them demanded. He was wearing the standard fur and bone armor his people were known for, but was also wearing a headdress with deer antlers affixed to it and in a gaping wound carved into his chest sat a beating Briarheart. Katariah gasped. She had heard of Briarhearts of course, but had never seen one in real life. She also wouldn't see it for long because as she gasped something grabbed her by the boot and dragged her off the porch into the bushes alongside it.

Katariah struggled, jabbing elbows and knees wherever she could land a blow. Finally, her captor hissed, "Damn it Elf, I'm trying to save your life!"

Katariah quit struggling in shock. She'd known that voice for only a day, but it had been irritating enough to brand itself in her mind. "Torygg? How in Oblivion did you get here? Where are the men I left you with?"

Torygg drew himself up as best he could while still crouched in a bush and threw her a haughty look. "Well, after you left me with those thugs they took turns beating me until my cries brought the Forsworn down upon us. The Forsworn knew who I was immediately, so I told them if they rescued me I would cede the Reach to them once I was returned to my throne."

Katariah snorted, "How noble of you."

Torygg ground his teeth. "Well they didn't very well keep their end if the bargain, did they? I suppose they thought I couldn't speak their language and agreed to tell me they were taking me back to Solitude but actually take me to their Matriarch."

"Then why are you in Karthwasten, there are no Hagravens here."

"If you would let me finish! Before they wanted to go to their Matriarch they wanted to finish their primary objective of teaching Ainethatch a lesson. I presume that, "Torygg pointed at Ainethatch and the Forsworn, "is Ainethatch."

Ainethatch was still facing off against the Forsworn. "Look, I've done told you, I deal with anyone who wants to buy ore from my mines. If you have the coin I deal with you and if anyone else has the coin I deal with them." Beside them, some burning thatch fell from the roof of Karthwasten Hall and lit on their bush. They scurried back along the side of the building. Katariah looked to the porch and noticed with dismay that her horse was nowhere to be seen, though part of his broken halter was. He must have broken free when the fire started. She turned back to Torygg.

"Okay, so, the horse is gone."

"The horse is gone!"

"Yep, the horse is gone, so we'll have to make a run for it."

Torygg looked at Katariah incredulously. "Are you serious? We'll never make it across the bridge!"

"Nope, that's why we're going to jump in the river." Katariah licked her lips and turned back to watch the Forsworn, trying to judge the distance between them and the river.

"You're crazy! That will kill us!" Torygg hissed furiously. Besides, the river would wash them farther south and he desperately needed to be farther north. He might have saved the Elf's life on the porch just then, but only because he needed her to help him escape the Forsworn for now.

Katariah turned back to Torygg one last time. "No, it _might_ kill us. The Forsworn _will_ kill us. Especially you once they realize you've sneaked off. You can come with me or stay here. I don't really care; my job is done." And with that Katariah stood up and started running with all her might toward the river. Torygg had only a split second to consider before dashing after her.

Behind them the Forsworn shouted. "The King! Don't let him escape!" An arrow whizzed by Torygg's ear, slamming into Katariah's shoulder. Already at the edge of the river, the impact of the arrow shoved her forward into the water. Torygg dove after her, another arrow missing him by a hairsbreadth.

In the space of a moment his world went from the noise of fire and shouting to the eerie silence underwater. He struggled to the surface, the rapids churning swiftly around him. He tried to look around for Katariah but was swiftly pulled under. He clawed his way to the surface again and this time, up ahead he spotted the Dunmer bobbing unconscious just barely afloat. He tried to swim to her, but the current kept dragging him under and slamming him into outcroppings of rock. Just as he reached her and hooked his hand into her armor, the current slammed them both into a huge boulder and knocked the High King unconscious.

"Hey Mister, you ok?"

Torygg groaned and looked around groggily. Standing above him was a small Nord boy no older than maybe eleven. Torygg let his head sink back down and closed his eyes. His body felt like one huge bruise and if there was a child about he couldn't be anywhere too dangerous. The river had also washed them much farther down the river than the Forsworn could follow. The High King felt he deserved a little rest.

"Hey, Mister! Your friend is badly hurt!"

The elf! Torygg tried to leap up, but his body hurt too badly, so he simply scrambled to his hands and knees. The elf was lying face down on the river bank, half of her body submerged underwater, and the now broken arrow still jutting out of her shoulder. Torygg crawled over to her and rolled her partially over, careful not to roll her over onto the arrow shaft. "Kat?" He didn't know if that was even really her name, but it was what that brute she'd sold him to had called her, so it would have to do.

The elf groaned as he had. "Where are we?" she asked faintly.

Torygg frowned. He hadn't thought to ask. He looked to the child. "You're in the river behind Old Hroldan Inn." The boy supplied helpfully. "We can sell you a room, but we don't have much for a wound like that."

Katariah pushed herself to her knees with her good arm. "Do you have someone who can remove the arrow?" The wound burned and throbbed with what she knew was probably the beginning of an infection. She could heal the wound with her magic and a good potion, but not while the arrow was still lodged in her shoulder. That is, unless she wanted to sport a broken arrow out of her back for the rest of her life.

"Why do you assume I can't remove it?" Torygg demanded.

Katariah cast him a baleful glare. "Can you then?" When Torygg didn't respond, she snorted. "Then shut up and help me stand."

Torygg awkwardly slung Katariah's good arm over his shoulders and helped her to stand while the boy strode ahead. The little one called over his shoulder, "My name's Skuli by the way. I don't know how to remove an arrow from a person, but Leontias probably does." Noticing Torygg struggling to help Katariah, he added, "I'll go ahead and fetch him," before running up the path and out of sight.

"Nocturnal's grace, have you never helped carry a comrade in arms?" Katariah snapped when Torygg almost dropped her for the third time.

Torygg flushed red and opened his mouth to argue, but something stopped him. "Er… no. I don't have a lot of… _martial_ experience, per se."

Katariah laughed out loud, "And you were going to duel Ulfric Stormcloak, war veteran and renowned general? I'd say I saved your life, my liege."

That was the first time the Elf had ever referred to him as anything close to his proper title, and of course, she was mocking him. "Well, I'm saving yours now, so I'd say we're even!" he fumed, disgusted that he'd thought to be sincere with her.

"Actually, Skuli is saving both of us, and you're functioning as a fairly useless walking stick." Katariah quipped right back, enjoying the peculiar shade of tomato red the young king was turning. In retort Torygg stepped out from under her arm completely, but they had arrived at the porch of Old Hroldan Inn and Leontias caught Katariah by her good arm before she fell.

"That arrow is Forsworn made." Leontias said matter of factly as he helped Katariah inside and sat her down on one of the benches at the long table in the middle of the common room.

"Yes, the Forsworn seem to have taken the Reach." Torygg replied, "I can't believe it! How did they even breach Markarth? Were there insurgents in the city? You'd think I'd… I mean the King would have known of such a thing!"

Leontias gave Torygg a measured look, "Maybe the King did know, not that it matters now."

Katariah laughed as Torygg made a face like he'd been punched in the gut. Right. He was supposed to be dead.


End file.
